


Finishing With The Beginning

by Warp5Complex_Archivist



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-04
Updated: 2006-03-03
Packaged: 2018-08-15 22:49:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8075932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warp5Complex_Archivist/pseuds/Warp5Complex_Archivist
Summary: An accident changes lives—and history—forever. Includes Mayweather/f. (07/27/2004)





	1. Finishing With The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).

The moment he accepted the transmission, it looked as though Admiral Forrest might explode. "What the hell is going on, Archer?"

"I'm working on the full report at the moment, sir," came the weary but respectful reply. If the admiral's tone was any indication, it was a good thing he was in his ready room, where at least he was sitting down.

"I just got this," proceeded Forrest, waving a padd in the air. "A request for a new science officer, communications officer with expertise in exolinguistics, pilot, armory officer, chief engineer, and another security officer. This document leads me to the unpleasant conclusion that Dr. Phlox is the only other member of your senior staff still alive, but there are no death certificates included in this transmission. So I'm going to ask you again, Captain. What the hell is going on?"

"My report will..."

"I'm not waiting for the report."

Jonathan Archer sighed and put his padd aside. Steeling himself emotionally, he began to talk.

* * *

Travis had been thrilled with his assignment. Orbiting the entire area of the planet were asteroids, a moving sphere several layers thick. Excitement had been lacking at the helm lately, and he was excited at the prospect of maneuvering Shuttlepod One down to the surface of Aria IV. Once there, Commander Tucker was going to help the Arians make sure that the hull of their first space vehicle could withstand the strain of frequent trips through the asteroids.

"This could get rough," he commented as he initiated their descent.

"I wish these things had seat belts," muttered the commander. Travis chose to ignore the remark.

"We're ready," piped up the other occupant of the shuttle. Ensign Tatiana Silina was accompanying them because Lieutenant Reed had insisted that someone from security go down to the surface. Travis had talked to Tatiana before, finding her formal manner of speaking, a remnant of learning English as a second language, to belie a playful and lighthearted woman.

Once safely on the surface, Travis and Tatiana had ample time to talk. Someone had thoughtfully brought in chairs, and they talked while Commander Tucker and the Arian engineering team tweaked the alien vessel. He admired her ability to carry on an engaging conversation while simultaneously and rather ceaselessly observing, staying alert for any threat to them or the Chief Engineer across the room. They talked about life experiences—his life as a boomer was so different from hers. She'd never even been to the moon before joining Starfleet, which he couldn't imagine. Then again, she couldn't imagine not knowing one spot of Earth so well that it was nearly a part of you.

Eventually Tatiana looked at the engineers swarming around the shuttle and remarked, "They look like birds, trying to build a nest out of so many shiny things."

"Tatiana Silina! You'd better not let Commander Tucker hear you talk about engineering projects that way." When she started laughing, Travis was perplexed. It was funny, but not that funny.

"My apologies, Travis, but to rebuke such as you attempted you must call me Tatiana Ivanovna. It sounds silly the way you said it."

"Ivanovna?"

"You said "Eevanovna." This is good. Too many people believe it is "Eyevanovna." In Russian, we haven't this hard sound. Ivan is my father."

"So your middle name means daughter of Ivan."

"Something like this. My sister and I are Ivanovna. Our brother is Ivanovich. These do not translate neatly. It is saying "Ivan, feminine," or "Ivan, male," but it is understood to indicate paternity."

Some people wondered how the universe could hold such diverse cultures. Travis thought it astounding that many cultures shared so much in common, when the diversity a single planet could produce was astounding. He told Tatiana that. He also wondered which way he would address her to ask her on a date, but this he kept to himself.

"Becoming a philosopher, Travis?"

Their conversation was abruptly cut off when Commander Tucker strode over. "Ready ta go back? The Arian shuttle's as good as I can make 'er."

Right before he took Shuttlepod One up through the asteroid field the adrenaline kicked in. His senses heightened as he turned—right, right, left, down and under, now back up, left—and got them through the maze. He noticed that Shuttlepod Two had launched, but it looked as though they'd pass by with a little over fifteen meters between them. In Enterprise, fifteen meters wasn't much at all, but it was ample room in the small shuttlepods.

Which is why Travis Mayweather was very surprised to see that the shuttlepods were suddenly on a collision course. His sensors were dead. What happened? "Travis!" shouted out Commander Tucker, who was trying to hail Shuttlepod Two, or Enterprise, or both.

"Helm unresponsive. Switching to manual. Still unresponsive." He looked up and saw on the small viewscreen a streak pushing Shuttlepod Two towards them. It was at once both every color he'd ever seen, plus many he hadn't, and no color at all. This thin, pulsing streak probably had a twin behind his shuttlepod.

Frantically he pushed buttons, brakes, anything he could think of that would, under normal conditions, do something helpful. Nothing happened. "There's nothing I can do!" Still, he tried, and kept trying until suddenly the colors that weren't enveloped him. His last thought was regret that he'd never get to ask Tatiana Ivanovna Silina on a date.

* * *

Malcolm was in a good mood as he walked to the shuttlebay with Hoshi and T'Pol. Not only had Captain Archer allowed him to send security with the second away team, the captain, in an unusually cautious mood, had sent him personally. (The possibility that Archer just wanted him out of his hair had occurred to him, but it didn't seem likely so he dismissed it.) He hadn't been forced to argue with the captain over security. Perhaps a couple of years had made him realize how important security precautions were. Malcolm wouldn't have minded having another of his people, but he'd decided not to press the issue.

Hoshi was already working on a translation, looking up from her padd only occasionally as she walked. It was a good thing the corridors were practically deserted, or she would've run into a good many people. The Arians had received a transmission from Aria III, which had showed no signs of advanced technology until five minutes previously. They were having trouble deciphering the language, but had noted it shared some qualities with English, and had requested Hoshi's help. (All they'd managed to figure out so far was that the inhabitants of Aria III called their planet "Nerth.")

Additionally, since the asteroid field was distorting the already weak transmission, T'Pol was going to the surface to do work on making a clearer transmission. Malcolm knew that there were plenty of people on board Enterprise who could do that, so T'Pol was also going for her ability to pilot. Although she did not often pilot, Malcolm had seen her at the helm once on an away mission, and she was almost as good as Travis.

"Amazing. This language is very similar to English! The syntax is almost identical, and many of the words sound like ours. It's practically just the alphabet that's different!" exclaimed Hoshi from the back.

Their launch went smoothly, and Malcolm focused on the readouts he was getting as copilot. Really, there was nothing for him to do, but he liked to be busy. Sometimes this required a little inventiveness. Hoshi had gotten her new language look on her face and was, very unsurprisingly, deeply involved in her padd. Malcolm found the look on her face very attractive, but that thought was out of line, as it was every time, and he went back to the readouts.

He saw the problem at the exact same moment T'Pol did. One second they were on course to the surface, and it looked as though they'd pass the returning Shuttlepod One with fifteen and a half meters. The next second nothing in the shuttlepod was working and they were going to collide into Shuttlepod One. He couldn't even get a hail out to tell Travis they'd lost all control.

"All systems unresponsive," T'Pol said. "Manual control is having no effect. I am unable to influence our flight path."

Now even Hoshi had come out of her linguistics reverie. "Malcolm?" she said, trying hard not to sound afraid but not quite succeeding.

"There's nothing we can do." No matter how many buttons he pushed, no matter how fervently he wished for a miracle, they were going to crash.

"At least it's beautiful," she said in a small voice. Leave it to Hoshi to notice beauty when they were about to die. Looking at the screen (what difference did it make now, anyway?) he saw that she was right on two counts. First, there was something, her "it," pushing Shuttlepod One towards them.

Probably a similar anomaly was behind them. They could see it, pushing the other shuttlepod towards them. Yet, it was beautiful. It pulsated with many colors, more than half of which Malcolm didn't think he'd ever seen, but then seemed to have no color at all.

"I was able to send a brief data burst to Enterprise." He didn't know how T'Pol managed it, but before he could ask her, Malcolm Reed succumbed to the colors that were not.

* * *

Things were going fine until the streaks came out from nowhere. He could only watch in horror as the two shuttlepods were pushed together. The way the streaks were pulsing, in waves, it was strange that the shuttles were going at a steady pace. In the scheme of things, this wasn't a terribly helpful observation.

"Hail them!" he'd immediately told Ensign Jenkins, covering for Hoshi. She was a good communications officer who always did a good job at her post, if not the brilliant linguist Hoshi was. Wisely, she didn't ask which shuttlepod to hail. When the first didn't respond, she tried the other.

"No response from either of them, sir, but I'll keep trying."

Lieutenant (junior grade) McAllister failed to provide Malcolm's usual sense of calm in the middle of chaos, but she was doing her best. "I can't get a tractor lock on either shuttlepod!"

"Could a torpedo knock them off course?" Damn, he was getting really desperate. "I don't think it could do anything but harm, sir."

Ensign Lee at the science station added her input. "I can't make heads or tails of this thing, Captain, but it's off every chart I've got."

"Any ideas?" In response, the bridge was conspicuously silent. He heard T'Pol's station emit beeps of all varieties, and Lee was scanning the monstrosity in front of them. He did not doubt her abilities, but all the same, it was T'Pol's station.

Propelled by streaks of more colors than he could count that at the same time managed to look colorless, the two shuttlepods, carrying six members of his crew—five from his senior staff, with whom he'd developed a special friendship—hurtled towards each other. He didn't want to look, but forced himself to out of loyalty, respect, and a certain measure of desperate hope.

Just as Jonathan Archer was sure that he was going to watch his closest friends smash into each other and meet their deaths, the streaks disappeared and the shuttles hung next to each other, inert in space. His elation quickly plummeted when Lee broke the silence.

"No life signs, sir."

* * *

Hoshi woke up slowly, enjoying the feeling of the sun radiating on her face. Wait a second...sun? What about Enterprise? Suddenly it all came flooding back to her—the colored and yet colorless streak, the shuttle crash. I'm alive!

This prompted her to open her eyes very quickly, but it took a moment for them to adjust to the bright light. While she couldn't really see anything, she said to herself, "I'm alive!"

"Indeed you are, Ensign. As am I, Commander Tucker, Lieutenant Reed, Ensign Silina, and Ensign Mayweather." Hoshi was so happy to see T'Pol she could've hugged her, but instead opted to sit near her on the grassy hillside. The other four were still asleep, and evidently quite unharmed.

"What happened? Where are we?"

"I regret that I cannot answer either question."

"No tricorder?" That was unlike T'Pol.

"My utility belt was not transported to this planet with me. Neither were the phase pistols that Lieutenant Reed and Ensign Silina were undoubtedly carrying or our communicators."

"I'm alive."

"An astute observation, Commander. Is everyone accounted for?"

The southern drawl and clipped British alerted the women to Trip and Malcolm's return to the waking world.

"We're all here," Hoshi supplied.

"However, we do not have any of our equipment," T'Pol added. The two men had figured that out quickly. As soon as he woke up, Malcolm had reached for his phase pistol and discovered that he didn't have so much as the holster. Trip had attempted to take out his communicator but also came up empty-handed.

"Nothin' but the clothes on our backs," Trip concluded remorsefully, thinking fondly of his tool kit in the shuttlepod and how useful it could be. Deciding to look on the bright side, he forced more cheer into his voice. "But we're all here without a scratch."

"How is that possible? We were going to crash." It seemed that Malcolm had already found a makeshift weapon in the form of an oval rock that he gripped in his right hand.

"I do not know. My Vulcan physiology prevented me from falling asleep, as you did. We simply left the shuttle and arrived this hill."

Since T'Pol didn't have any answers, Malcolm hiked up the rest of the hill and studied the view from all angles. "I don't see anyone."

Joining him, Hoshi took in their surroundings. Down past the side of the hill that they awoke on was a forest. Opposite that was a lake, and otherwise all she could see was a rolling field, dotted here and there with bushes and the odd tree. They stood in silence, taking it in.

Meanwhile Travis was waking up below. "Tatiana?" he muttered. Groggily, he forced himself to a sitting position.

"Ensign Silina is three meters to your left."

"T'Pol? You're here too?"

"She is, an' so're Hoshi and Malcolm," Trip supplied.

"My phase pistol is gone." Tatiana Silina's first sentence upon waking marked her as the other security officer of the group.

"We do not have any equipment." At this point, T'Pol was beginning to realize that if they were marooned for any length of time she was going to want her meditation candles more than anything else.

Malcolm and Hoshi came down from the top of the hill, and upon seeing all his companions awake, Malcolm declared the hill "the best defensive location around."

"There is no proof of malicious intent, Lieutenant." "T'Pol, I dunno about you, but I've never had a friendly howdie-do like that before."

While T'Pol arched one eyebrow up, Tatiana spoke up. "I think it'd be best if we took watches tonight."

"As soon as we figure out when night is," sighed Travis. He'd have to ask T'Pol how long he was asleep, because he didn't particularly feel refreshed.

Looking at the sky, Tatiana ventured a guess. "I suppose it is either three o'clock in the afternoon or nine o'clock in the morning, by Earth standards."

As it turned out, it was afternoon. The six of them spent the rest of the daylight hours discussing their situation, which led to more questions than answers, and finding a small stream that led to the lake. After some debate, it was decided that they'd drink some of the water. It would have been better to have a tricorder with which to scan the water, but Hoshi led the way in drinking. It didn't look like they would have access to a tricorder soon, and it was important to keep hydrated.

_Tomorrow we'll have to find food_. With this thought Hoshi drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Archer had really wanted to go examine the shuttles himself, but then there wouldn't be anybody left to take the bridge, so he opted instead to keep an open communications link with his team. They hadn't found anything, anyway. The shuttles, and all the equipment in them down to communicators, were unharmed and intact. His people were gone.

The science department was going over the scans and the short data burst Shuttlepod Two had sent, but so far they'd come up with nothing at all. The data burst was very short and apparently told them that the streaks were made up of a great deal of material they couldn't measure and didn't have any idea what it might be. Personally he found significance in the fact that someone, presumably T'Pol, had been alive and well enough to send it. And if they never actually crashed, then he had reason to believe that she, as well as everyone else in the shuttlepods, was still alive.

Dr. Phlox was involved as well. He'd been briefed and was given the bits and pieces of information that were comprehensible. A small percentage of the streaks seemed to be composed of known substances, and Archer gave this list to Phlox in case he had any ideas as to possible effects. So far, he hadn't come up with anything and told his captain in no uncertain terms that he doubted he would. However, he'd also scanned the shuttlepods for DNA traces. There were plenty, of six different varieties, but happily no blood was found. That reassured Archer, but it was only a small amount of comfort.

The Arians had been most cooperative, although they didn't know any more than he did. Many of their citizens had seen the streaks, and now archivists were looking for records of these in the past. Their scientists were also trying to figure out the anomaly, although they weren't making any more progress than Enterprise. He'd talked to the engineering team about Shuttlepod One's takeoff and was told nothing remotely unusual occurred. Nothing went wrong, and nothing should be wrong. He even had his shuttlepods back without so much as a scratch. Now if the anomaly had just left his people alone!

Pacing around in his ready room, he was trying to make sense of the events of the last ten hours when someone—he was too tired to remember who—told him he had an incoming transmission.

"Grolf, I'm sorry that we haven't been of more help with your linguistics puzzle."

"No, captain, it is understandable. This mystery concerns you very deeply. I contacted you for two reasons: one, to express my desire for the swift retrieval of your people."

"Thank you. It can't come fast enough."

"No, but I understand that you have reason to believe that they survived, which is wonderful news."

"Yes."

"The second reason I contacted you is that we have made much progress translating the message from Aria III, from those who call their planet Nerth. The syntax is remarkably close to your English. This cannot be explained, but I have sent Enterprise the translation algorithm."

"I appreciate your concern and your information, Grolf. If we come to any conclusions, we'll contact Shelb." Shelb took all transmissions for all branches of government and sent them out to the appropriate party, or connected transmissions. Compared to some bureaucracies he'd encountered, Archer thought the Arian system was fairly efficient.

He desperately wished he had more information.

* * *

Hoshi and Travis were the first to wake up. T'Pol had taken the last third of the watch, and she was sitting serenely on the top of the hill, keeping aware of everything that was going on. After a few minutes, she and Hoshi decided to go get a drink from the stream, since no adverse effects from their previous drink had been observed.

"It would be unwise to allow ourselves to suffer from dehydration," T'Pol agreed, although Hoshi knew that she disliked using her hands as a cup to drink from. The stream was just a few meters from the bottom of the hill, and they were almost there when T'Pol suddenly stopped.

"What's wrong?"

"We may have been closer to danger last night than we thought."

Following T'Pol's gaze, Hoshi found her own eyes settle on a line of footprints of a large variety that most likely belonged to a voracious predator. T'Pol bent down to analyze the tracks, while Hoshi looked around to make sure that the animal wasn't around.

"These prints were most likely made by a creature weighing approximately 450 kilograms that possesses sharp claws." Hoshi didn't know how T'Pol figured out its weight, math not being her specialty, but it was obviously big and a predator. This was a very bad combination, especially when their defense consisted of nothing more than a small pile of rocks Malcolm had accumulated and a long stick that Tatiana had happened upon.

"I think we need to find a safer place to sleep tonight. Hopefully Enterprise will come, but I don't want to take any chances."

"A logical precaution."

That was how Hoshi, Tatiana, and Trip ended up scouting around for a better shelter. Malcolm, Travis, and T'Pol were gathering food, because they decided more could be accomplished by breaking into two groups. No cover was available around where they had arrived, so the trio wandered into the woods. It was only after an unsuccessful morning that Tatiana came up with the idea of living in a tree.

"If we could make a floor near the top, I suspect we would be protected from most predators."

"It's worth lookin' into," said Trip, and he started up a large tree they'd just walked past. Hoshi and Tatiana watched him disappear into the leaves.

"It's perfect!" Hearing this, the two women came to the same conclusion.

"We're coming up!" When they broke through the leaves they saw why it was perfect. The tree trunk ended abruptly and left a flat circle probably five meters across. It would be rather tight for six people, but Hoshi had seen a similar-looking tree a few meters ahead and thought that they could easily split into two groups again.

The branches rose from the side of the trunk to make a green dome. Tatiana scrambled up and discovered that there was enough room for her head. "It is perfect."

"What a good idea!"

Settled in the women's tree that night, Hoshi concluded that she'd never been so lucky on an away mission gone awry before.

* * *

_Two noncorporeal beings were celebrating their success. The First thought to the second_ , We were successful. We appeared in that plane of existence. _The Second thought to the First in return_ , Yet when we returned here we displaced the biological entities that were in our path. _The First felt sorrow for the effect of their experiment_. Which plane are they in? _it thought to the Second_. They are displaced within their own plane. For us to fix this is not possible. They must reverse it by their own efforts, or not at all. _The First knew then that the experiment could not be repeated_. The danger was too great.

* * *

It had been, by Tatiana's fastidious count, nine days since their arrival on the planet before they were relatively settled. She and Malcolm now had a general knowledge of the area that satisfied them as well as a trusty weapon apiece.

After much searching they had discovered rocks that, through much hard, backbreaking work, could be formed into spearheads. These were lashed with a strong root onto a straight stick. They had agreed that the other four should also have a weapon, but for now either Malcolm or Tatiana guarded expeditions. T'Pol had initially argued that it was more efficient to split into three groups of two, but had eventually acquiesced after Trip pleaded for the cause of caution.

Thus, they passed their days in a routine. Malcolm, Trip, and T'Pol gathered items that could be made into tools and containers. Malcolm wanted to start right in on another spearhead, but had been cajoled into working on a knife instead by the combined efforts of Trip's persistence and T'Pol's logic.

It was slow going, because he insisted on making the sharpest knife possible, but working on weaponry made him feel useful so he was, as much as one could be in the situation, content. Trip had started constructing a fire pit, although they hadn't needed one for heat yet due to fortunately warm temperatures. It was actually a bit hot, but all the same he wanted to be able to cook. As much as T'Pol would dislike it, meat was rapidly becoming necessary. The berries and water were taking their toll in sluggishness all around. By the ninth day he had finished the pit and spent that entire afternoon trying to start a fire, muttering curses.

Meanwhile, T'Pol had finished her first basket and had begun weaving another. Well, Trip wasn't entirely sure if it was a basket, because it didn't have handles and every basket he had ever seen had handles. Either way, he hoped that soon they might have something to put in them other than berries, because he was getting sick of them. However, Hoshi, Travis, and Tatiana were able to bring back more berries once she gave them a basket.

"Hallelujah!"

"I assume that you have successfully started a fire," she said without looking up from the bottom of her second basket.

"Look at 'er go!" he looked around, eyes finally resting on Malcolm's spear.

"Can I borrow that?"

"And what do you think I'll use for defense, a half-finished knife?"

"The fire, of course. C'mon, I can't go huntin' without a weapon."

"You shouldn't go alone."

"I won't go far. There are plenty a' lil rabbit things around 'ere."

With a long sigh, Malcolm handed over his precious spear, and Trip trotted off to hunt. It occurred to Malcolm that perhaps the southern drawl increases with fatigue.

"What do you think of that?" Malcolm, feeling somewhat naked without his spear, asked T'Pol.

"It is barbaric; however I believe it is necessary. We require protein to sustain activity. The past four days I have noticed that Ensigns Sato and Silina slept for half an hour longer than they previously did. When they are awake, they are not alert as they once were. Today I have begun to feel the strain on my body. I will partake in any meal Commander Tucker manages to catch."

He nodded. "Very logical."

With this, they went back to work. Several minutes later, the other three came into view. Travis was holding what appeared to be a rock. Tatiana had her spear in one hand and a head-sized blue sphere in the other. Hoshi cradled the basket of small peach-colored berries in her arms. (Travis observed that they tasted like a cross between grapefruit and apples, which wasn't great tasting but was food.) As they came closer, it looked like Travis was about to drop the rock any minute. He didn't until they were close to the fire pit.

"We found a bowl," he panted. "A really heavy bowl."

"Travis has been carrying it for an hour." Malcolm thought that he detected a half-disguised note of admiration in Tatiana's voice. "We found a coconut or something. The chvetka-birds like them. This was the only one that had not been pecked to death."

"The what?" Malcolm guessed that this probably meant something in Russian.

"Flower-birds. They're gorgeous, Malcolm, and when they spread their wings it's like a flower blooming," supplied Hoshi.

"Ah." He nodded approval of this. "Well, Trip is off rabbit-hunting. He plans on eating roast rabbit tonight." Three days ago they'd agreed to use first names, except for T'Pol who still addressed everyone by rank.

"Good! I am going to disappear to nothing without meat." Tatiana looked at the fire approvingly.

Just then Trip appeared with his catch. T'Pol raised her eyebrow higher than he'd ever seen it, but said nothing. "It's a little fella, but I figure we'd better start small and get used to real food again." Carefully wielding the tip of the spear, he went off to a side and began gutting his catch.

All remains after each of them had eaten their meager portion of meat, included a somewhat disdainful T'Pol, he went off to bury the remains and bones. Tatiana stopped him from throwing in the hide. "I will scrape it and keep it. We may need it at some point."

T'Pol looked as close to nauseous as a Vulcan could get. "Uh, maybe I'll take care of it," Trip amended.

"Thank you. I will adapt in time, if necessary." She thought, rather wistfully by human standards, of her meditation candles. Vulcans did not eat meat, but she just had out of necessity, and felt a great need to make peace with the tumult of illogic in her mind.

"Here's hoping it won't be," said Travis, who toasted Tatiana with a berry.

* * *

Hoshi woke up to sweltering heat and Tatiana making another mark on a slab of bark she tallied days on; three groups and then today's new one. It was bath day, which was great fun. They only bathed every third day, much to T'Pol's displeasure. Really, though, they all would've liked to go down to the lake more often. The problem was that they had far too much to do. On bath days the men went first, because as Trip put it, "I could take three baths in the time it takes ya for one!"

When everyone was awake they walked to the stream for a drink. This stream ran quite close to their tree houses—it was maybe ten meters away. Once the berries were eaten, Trip, Malcolm (spear in hand), and Travis went off to the lake. It was a kilometer or so away, so they'd be gone a little while. Meanwhile in the clearing near their trees, T'Pol, having completed three baskets (she had become a proficient weaver), began to weave a sleeping mat. Hoshi had set out some berries on a stone in the sun to dry, in case winter came upon them, and was guarding them from the birds. Tatiana was chipping a rock into a scraper for any further animal hides they might get.

Currently it seemed that Trip's first rabbit was beginner's luck, but two days previous he had found a tortoise of some sort. The shell had proved to be fire-resistant and an excellent, if somewhat small, cooking pot. They never seemed to have a great deal of meat to put in it anyway. Boiled tortoise was stringy meat that wasn't very enjoyable, but even T'Pol ate it. She had meditated for an extra long time that night.

"Out here, in this natural environment, I believe it is easy to rethink my previous religious beliefs."

"Ensign, I was not aware you had any religious beliefs." T'Pol never looked up from her mat, as was her custom.

"I don't. Or at least, I didn't. Now I think I could've been wrong. At home and on Enterprise, I was sure that I was right. Maybe I wasn't." Tatiana sounded genuinely confused.

"I know what you mean." Hoshi swung her arms up at an incoming bird, then looked to her friend. "It's hard to explain, but I know what you mean. We're surrounded by nature now, and I never was before."

"Vulcans do not have any religious beliefs. I maintain that position."

"Well, to each her own." That was a rather strained conversation since T'Pol obviously thought they were nuts, and each woman went back to work.

"I have another problem," said Tatiana suddenly, after some time. "I find myself attracted to Travis."

There was no reply from T'Pol, but Hoshi spoke up. "How's that a problem? Weren't you two flirting back on Enterprise?"

Although Hoshi had brought up a subject that had, after the first few days, become taboo by unspoken agreement, Tatiana didn't look surprised. "This is different. It is serious."

"Does he feel the same way?"

"I suspect so."

"You should talk to him about it. If..." she trailed off, leaving the implications of a long-term stay on the planet unspoken. "You two would make a good couple."

"T'Pol?" queried Tatiana, as though asking for permission. Which, though not directly, she was.

"This is the human way?" she asked, more of Hoshi than Tatiana.

"Yes."

"Humans do not fare well when they suppress their emotions. However, I would advise you to proceed with caution for the sake of your professional relationship with Ensign Mayweather."

Tatiana nodded and silence once again came over the group.

* * *

Ensign Jenkins and Grolf had just said words that Jonathan Archer didn't think could possibly be true. "You mean these people, on Nerth, speak a form of English?"

"Did you ever speak pig Latin when you were younger, sir?"

"Yes," he frowned, not quite understanding where this was going.

"Pig Latin?" Obviously the UT hadn't found anything in Arian that was the equivalent.

"It's a sort of code children use on Earth, so they think that nobody else can understand them. Except that everyone knows what they're saying anyway."

"Thank you, Ensign."

"What does pig Latin have to do with this?"

"Well, Nerth is like a more complex version of pig Latin. Most of the words can be traced to an English root."

"Most, but not all?"

"There are some that I can't trace to an English word, but I think this is more than coincidence, sir."

Grolf added his opinion. "Once Ensign Jenkins pointed it out, what she had observed seemed obvious to me."

"Okay, so we have a language with an English root. What does that mean?"

The silence he got in response was disheartening.

* * *

Tatiana felt her stomach twist as she saw T'Pol return from the fiber-gathering expedition with no new weaving materials and no Travis. She had and Hoshi were just about finished with dinner. The rabbit she'd caught was just about done roasting, and Hoshi had found grain that she carefully plucked, mashed to powder and declared flour. Most of it she was saving for winter, but in celebration of the accomplishment had made a small tortilla of sorts for each of them.

Malcolm and Trip had returned from their latest mission to find objects that they could manipulate into tools, and had just sat down when T'Pol jogged into camp. That was unusual, because they usually avoided running. The planet was too hot for that, although she supposed T'Pol was better suited to it than any of them. Personally, Tatiana had grown up in the region of land that wasn't quite in Siberia, but was very close to it, and wasn't used to such heat.

"Where is Travis?"

"He is injured. A tree pinned him to the ground. I was unable to free him myself." Part of Tatiana wanted to scream, but she controlled herself. It wasn't T'Pol's fault, and it appeared that she left their spear with Travis.

"I will come with you."

"Tatiana, do you really think..." Malcolm began, but Hoshi made a small slicing motion with her hand and he left the rest of his question unasked. "I'll come too."

"Is it serious?"

"Ensign Mayweather believes he has suffered only a broken left ankle. However, he requested our haste."

"Of course."

"Trip and I will stay here," volunteered Hoshi. "We'll get ready to look at his injuries."

Trip looked like he would have preferred join the rescue attempt, but didn't say anything about it. "We'll keep the viddles warm, too."

T'Pol didn't even bother to raise an eyebrow.

When they came back, it was apparent that Travis had suffered several cuts and bruises in addition to his broken ankle. Trip had volunteered his undershirt to be used as a rag, and had also gathered sticks to make the best cast that could be made under the circumstances, silently cursing whatever it was that didn't even have the decency to leave them with a med kit, or even painkillers.

Hoshi had hot water ready when they came. She disliked the task ahead of her, but her aunt was a nurse, so she had a notion of what had to be done. The bone would have to be set, tied with sticks and ripped undershirts, and infection would have to be prevented. She was afraid, but couldn't let Travis—or Tatiana—see her fear.

He was a trooper, only hissing through the hot water she used to sterilize the wounds and trying desperately not to show how much pain he was in. Trip and Malcolm somehow got him up to their tree, and he stayed there until he could, though with a limp, walk around the camp and contribute again by cooking.

Tatiana visited him for as much time as she could spare. Hoshi would stop by and tell him amusing anecdotes about mistranslations and some of the things her students said in the past, meaning to say something else altogether. T'Pol stopped by, never staying for long, but always making an appearance, telling him the various misadventures she encountered in her attempts to understand humans.

A week after his injury she presented him with a blanket, carefully woven with an amazingly perfect circle made of darker fibers in the middle. Trip and Malcolm had teamed up to procure a hard, small piece of wood to carve and a chipped rock point, obviously of Malcolm's work. So when he felt useless, cooped up in the tree, he started carving a bear for Tatiana. It was finished two days after he could walk again.

They had found a new fruit and saved it to eat until he could sit by the fire and eat with them. T'Pol explained that she noticed a rodent chewing on a protruding tuber, and that alerted her to the presence of a possible food source. Tatiana thought that it tasted a bit too much like cabbage for her preference, but was so overjoyed to see Travis back that she didn't care.

"It'd be better if we had some ranch sauce," noted Trip.

"How can one extract a sauce from property devoted to raising livestock?"

Travis smiled at T'Pol's comment, thinking how much he'd missed their lively conversation. It was good to be back.

* * *

"Malcolm, when're ya gonna start takin' Hoshi out?"

Back in the shallow part of the lake, because for reasons he refused to disclose to anyone, Malcolm stubbornly went no further once the water reached his shoulders, Malcolm stopped scooping water up on to his head and looked at Trip, who was happily treading water. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Like hell ya don't!"

Travis called out, or rather up, since he was lazily enjoying a backfloat, "It's pretty obvious, Malcolm. She likes you too." Under Trip's tutelage he'd become a good, strong swimmer. Trip offered to teach Malcolm to swim, but Malcolm insisted that he knew how to swim and snapped shut like a clam. The subject hadn't been brought up again.

"It wouldn't be appropriate." He returned to scooping water onto his hair, which had grown disgracefully shaggy. For all his attempts, they didn't have anything with which to cut hair, or, more irritatingly, beards. Fortunately, he felt certain that he was on the verge of a small pair of scissors.

"It's been two and a half months, Malcolm. You've waited a lot longer than Tatiana and I did."

"You have the same rank. It's different."

"Not really."

He wanted to change the subject in a most desperate manner, but part of him hoped that they were right. "I'm no good at relationships."

"You know as well as I do that Hoshi's special to ya."

Travis didn't say anything, opting to leave this difficult topic to Trip after all.

"Besides, with Travis and Tatiana moving into their own tree tomorrow, that would leave you and T'Pol to live together. It's a bad idea to have only one person in a tree."

"How's that a bad thing?"

"You've got to be kidding, Trip. T'Pol?"

"We've been talkin.'"

"And?" Travis decided to reenter the conversation.

"We got right to the point. "Realistic" she calls it. We could be down here a real long time. Maybe forever. At some point, we're all gonna need companionship and sexual release."

"I didn't think Vulcans..." It was a good thing he was used to floating in zero-g. It helped keep Travis from losing his backfloat, which was quite enjoyable.

Trip didn't elaborate. "The thing is, we're here. By some lucky break, there's three of us and three women. It's natural to partner off an' nobody expects you to be superhuman."

Malcolm didn't respond.

"It's also not fair ta Hoshi."

The last line did it. "I'll talk to her. But I will not repeat the conversation to you."

Trip and Travis started swimming to shore, the latter with a mildly disappointed look on his face.

"Just talk to 'er."

"I almost forgot to tell you! Tatia and I talked, and if we ever get back to the ship we're going to have Captain Archer marry us. That's why we're moving in together."

"Good for you, Travis!"

* * *

It had been five days, and he was going to have to send a report to Starfleet soon. So far he'd managed to keep the reports on strictly diplomatic topics, but there would be no avoiding a full report on the accident. Sciences had come up with a report on the streaks. They really didn't have anything useful in it, but it was time to acknowledge the reality. He had nothing to go on, not even a small lead to follow. His six officers—including his best friend—could be anywhere.

"Sickbay to Captain Archer." Dr. Phlox's voice broke through his disparaging.

"Archer here. What can I do for you, Doctor?"

"You may find this difficult to believe, but I have come up with a theory regarding the disappearance of Sub-Commander T'Pol, Commander Tucker, Lieutenant Reed, and Ensigns Sato, Mayweather, and Silina. It would be best if you could come to Sickbay so I can explain it."

The full report could wait. "I'll be right there. Archer out."

* * *

It turned out that this planet didn't have a winter, just a rainy season. After three months of beautiful, if slightly hotter than desirable (to everyone except T'Pol) weather, it poured daily. In the afternoon there would be a couple of hours when it didn't rain, and after the first week Trip had come up with a strange waxy coating from plants, and a pair of turtles that he found, which he pasted over the sleeping mats T'Pol had made for all of them.

Gallantly, he put this protective roof over T'Pol and Hoshi's heads first, and then it started to pour so he and Malcolm got wet all over again. Finally all three trees were protected, except near the side designated as a door. This meant that there were no sleeping mats (except Travis's blanket with the dark circle), because T'Pol's usual weaving materials were drenched. However, they were fairly dry so nobody found cause to complain.

By this time Malcolm had made a knife, complete with a woven scabbard made by T'Pol, for everyone. He also insisted that Hoshi and T'Pol keep a spear in their tree house. At some point he would move into a tree with Hoshi, but they were content for the moment to gather berries together during the afternoon breaks and talk.

Travis spent the dry time with Tatiana, climbing fruit trees for the blue coconuts and some other fruit that was square and black but very sweet. There was nothing else that seemed to be ripe. T'Pol and Trip went hunting. It was unpleasant for T'Pol, but she was very good at finding animals. Then Trip took over and did the killing.

"It is the most repulsive task I have ever undertaken, but it is imperative that I do this. Charles is able to slay creatures with accuracy, but his skills at locating them are lacking," she explained to Hoshi one evening.

Everyone had to do things that they considered repulsive. For Trip, the worst thing was sitting in the tree for hours on end. There was only so much that he could do up there, although he had undertaken an ambitious project with one of the two tiny turtle shells. T'Pol had taken one for a cup almost as soon as he thoroughly washed it, but the other he saved and spent the days etching. First he'd spent four days just making a tool sharp enough for detail work out of bone, and a slightly bigger one out of rock. He was etching an elaborate winding pattern on it and planned to present it to T'Pol when they moved in together.

That could be a while, since Hoshi and Malcolm were taking things slowly, but he could wait. Even with his project, though, he was going stir-crazy. Not that Malcolm was doing much better. He'd made a dozen fish hooks out of bone so far.

Everyone else assumed that the boredom was the worst thing for Malcolm, too, but Hoshi knew that he hated the lake more than anything else. He was probably the only person happy to go out in the rain and take his shower. Still, he went there to fish.

Fishing was a terrible thing, Hoshi thought. She and Malcolm went one afternoon and she felt horrible for the fish. It wasn't that she didn't like meat; she just didn't like to see her meals alive before she ate them. She'd eaten sushi and never thought a thing of it, but had never been forced to watch the transition from alive to meal. The first time she saw Malcolm hit a fish against a rock, she thought she might cry. It was better than making the creature suffocate, as Malcolm pointed out, but she felt horrible. Her dreams for a week had been plagued with images of dead fish eyes staring up at her accusingly. She didn't know how T'Pol did it, not even wanting to eat meat.

Tatiana was miserable when it rained for days on end. "It is as though the world is too sad to smile. It makes me sad as well." Travis brightened her days considerably, but she hated the rain, and doubted that she'd complain about the heat again. It was much preferable to the alternative.

As for Travis, he had to fight bouts of intense feelings of uselessness. Tatiana and Malcolm were needed for security. T'Pol's unique ingenuity had helped them immeasurably. Trip kept coming up with useful inventions. Hoshi, though they didn't need a linguist, kept moral up. When everyone was in a foul mood, she was the glue that bound them; her willingness to do what it took and nursing skills kept her always in demand. What could he offer? He could gather food. Sure. Anyone could do that. When he confessed this to Tatiana, she told him that by gathering food, he gave Trip the time to make things. He hadn't thought of it that way. "Besides," she said, "I love you. That has to count for something."

He'd decided it counted for a lot more than anything else, but still wished that he was able to make stuff.

It rained for three months, and they'd been on the planet for half a year then.

* * *

We have displaced them in their own plane. Now they will be Beginners, _thought the First to the Second_. I fear we have greatly disrupted that plane. _With this, the second moved its essence toward the vortex_. Perhaps we should attempt to undo that which we have done. _The First thought_ , No! We will cause only more danger. We must stay in those planes that we know. In order to preserve other planes, we must. _Thus they resigned themselves to a thousand millennia of boredom before death took them, and they did it out of a small bit of respect and a great, looming fear._

* * *

"Hoshi?"

"Come on up, Tatiana. We can have some good old-fashioned girl talk while the boys are off. This may be a men's fishing expedition, but I bet that they talk about women."

"I would expect no less. Should we invite T'Pol? I never know if I should try to include her or not."

"She's been looking forward to this all week, though she wouldn't admit it. It's probably very hard to meditate with Trip in the same room."

"She is using our first names now."

"I think we've all given up, and that's how she's showing it. I'm not sure if she knows any other way."

"Maybe it is good that we have lost hope. Now we can move forward to this new life."

"As long as Malcolm and I are together, I'll be fine."

"I feel the same way about Travis. Do you suppose that T'Pol and Trip are happy together?"

"I am content in my partnership with Charles, as is he." Hearing that voice, Tatiana turned a very deep shade of red.

"T'Pol, I, um..."

"I am familiar with the human custom of gossip, Tatiana." She finished climbing up at Hoshi's beckoning wave. "I find myself unable to meditate. Before I discuss the topic with Charles, I wish to gain the perspective of a human female. Two will be fine."

Tatiana was about to ask what was wrong, but decided to say nothing because that's what Hoshi was doing. T'Pol looked distinctively uncomfortable.

"I have finished the construction of my first garment."

"That's fortunate. All our uniforms are in bad shape, but yours is the worst." She hoped that wasn't out of place. She really should've let Hoshi be the first one to talk.

"Indeed. However, I have only made the bottom." She held up a skirt that Tatiana hadn't noticed before.

"That's beautiful, T'Pol. Mine is much less even." Hoshi held up a half-finished skirt of her own. The grasses T'Pol had suggested were working alright, but one side was at least a centimeter shorter than the other, and it didn't even reach down near her knees yet. Somehow, T'Pol had kept hers even all the way down to ankle-length. Hoshi didn't plan on going past knee-length.

"I can't weave at all, but I'm sewing the rabbit fur together. It's coming along, and I'm really glad I saved it."

"This garment will suffice. However, I was unable to form these fibers into pants. Charles will be most displeased when I tell him that the pants he is currently wearing are likely the last pair he will ever wear."

* * *

"Lieutenant Saheem has gone through the data we collected during the anomaly again at my request, Captain. She cannot draw any conclusions but tells me that she cannot rule out the possibility of time travel." Dr. Phlox looked like this was very significant. Archer frowned.

"Do you mean to tell me that it's not just a question of where my officers are, and now we have to worry about when?"

"Oh no, Captain. I am quite certain that I can answer the first question for you. It is the second that I cannot."

* * *

"Tatiana, did you and Travis fight? I'm not trying to pry, but he seems very sullen." Hoshi muttered a curse under her breath in a language Tatiana didn't know and pulled out the last row of her weaving.

"He is angrier at himself than at me."

"Oh?"

"Travis did not like the idea of wearing a skirt. So I told him that I am not a seamstress and he is welcome to sew his own clothes."

"That's why he's been spending so much time in your tree, then."

"Yes. He is just as good at sewing as I am, but I am afraid that doesn't mean very much. At any rate, he is frustrated because he cannot make pants either."

Hoshi let out a small laugh. "How's his skirt coming?"

"The skirt, fine. Our supply of needles, not so well. I told him that the fish do not come out of the water with needles for bones after the third one he broke."

"Maybe T'Pol or I could teach him to weave."

"There is always next year." Planning for next year had lost its taboo. It had been a little over seven months since they'd mysteriously arrived on this planet. In that time, they had grown to accept their new lives.

"I tried to teach Malcolm."

"How did that go?"

"It failed miserably." She smiled at the memory. "I'm not great, but Malcolm was a disaster. We decided that he should just stick to braiding rope. It took a little practice, but he can do that now. He prefers to go hunting, or make knives-anything else, really."

Tatiana laughed. "It seems that the boys will have to get used to skirts."

Malcolm walked over to Hoshi and put his hand on her left shoulder. "I have a surprise for you."

"Will you excuse us, Tatiana?"

"Of course. I will talk to you later."

Walking the short distance over to their tree house, Hoshi looked at the man in front of her with admiration and love. She'd been attracted to Malcolm before, but on this planet their friendship turned into something much deeper. It was interesting how his presence could bring out the introvert in her, and hers the extrovert in him. It was amazing how intense her feelings for him were.

"I suppose I can't ask you to close your eyes," he commented.

"Don't even try." She pulled herself up over the second-to-last limb. "Oh, Malcolm, it's beautiful!"

"I thought that we could use a little privacy."

"So that's what you wanted all that rope for!" Hanging in front of her was a curtain of feathers. She wondered how he had plucked the feathers off all the birds they ate without her noticing. He'd probably enlisted Trip or Travis's help in hiding them. Now the feathers were hanging down, each and every one tied on to a braid of rope. In all, twelve braids hung in their doorway, each covered in feathers of all sorts of colors.

"This is amazing."

"I'm glad you like it. Come inside." He took her hand and led her into the tree. "We can't have an official marriage ceremony here, but I still wanted to give you a ring." Lying on his palm was a delicate ring, carved perfectly smooth out of bone. Around the band it said _Forever My Love_ in delicately etched letters. Suddenly his careful attention to the fingers of her left hand made sense. He'd taken good mental notes, because the ring fit perfectly.

"Malcolm." Hoshi found that she simply didn't have words to express how she felt. "You're my universe." She hugged him with all her strength.

* * *

"This is the genetic structure of an individual from Nerth. It was included in the transmission sent to Aria, and they kindly sent it to me. A most considerate race."

"It's human." Archer's mind was racing.

"Almost. There are some components that I believe are Vulcan." He sighed. "I supposed the genetic structure is one-sixth Vulcan."

In some strange way, this was starting to make sense. In the back of his mind, he thought that this was going to be miserable to explain to the Vulcan High Command. He could hear T'Pol's voice in his head, saying _the Vulcan Science Directorate has determined that time travel is impossible_.

"Not quite. I would consider it closer to one-seventh. Perhaps Sub-Commander T'Pol had fewer children than Ensigns Sato and Silina. Considering the genetic difference between humans and Vulcans, that is highly plausible."

"So you think that my officers are somewhere in the past on Nerth? Do you have any idea how far back in time they traveled?"

"It's difficult to guess, Captain, without knowing how many children were born in the first generation of their descendants."

"Can you give me a range?"

"Judging from the number of biosigns we detected on Nerth, I would say they cannot be less than two thousand years in the past." He thought for a moment, hit a couple of buttons on his computer console, and then the good doctor looked back at his highly agitated captain. "It is doubtful that they are more than nine thousand four hundred years in the past. I wish I could give you a smaller time frame."

"This has been very helpful, Doctor. If you come up with anything else, please let me know. In the meantime, I need to talk with Lieutenant Saheem."

"Of course, Captain."

While he was walking down the corridor, an idea hit his mind like the proverbial bolt of lightening. _Nerth...New Earth! Why didn't I think of that_? The answer was saddening.

_Because Hoshi would've_.

* * *

"Malcolm, remember a few months ago when I told you that you're my universe?" They were picking berries on a beautiful, breezy day. He tasted the odd berry here and there, leading to a slightly redder tongue than usual.

"How could I forget?"

"Well, it's about to get a little bigger. In seven months." He looked confused, so she put a hand over her abdomen.

"You mean you're...we're going to be...a baby?" It took several seconds before he was able to speak, and even then the words didn't really form a sentence.

"Yes!"

"Wow." He looked stunned. She hadn't seen him look so out of it since he'd fallen when fighting that viscous bear creature. They'd decided to look at the sunset from the comfort of their tree after that adventure, although they got a nice bearskin blanket out of the whole ordeal. He still had a scar that ran down behind his ear from it. Seeing him fall, she thought that if she lost Malcolm she'd die.

"You're not happy." The pain in her voice was evident.

"Oh, Hosh, it's not that. I just thought of my father." He sat down, and she sat next to him. "I don't want to be like him."

"You won't be, Malcolm. I know that."

"How can you be so sure?"

"I know you. You're loving and kind; you're not your father."

He looked down at her stomach. "You have the most wonderful woman in the universe for a mother." Kissing that wonderful woman, he added. "And the luckiest man for your father."

Later, as they walked back with the berries, they talked about possible names for their baby. No decisions were made, but there was plenty of time.

"I'm going to start on a crib right away. Or maybe I should make a wall inside first. I can hardly believe it. I'm going to be a father!" Hoshi was relieved to see that, despite his initial (and probably still nagging) doubts, Malcolm was excitedly making plans for their child with as much joy as she felt. "Of course, I'll have to rig something up to get you in and out of the house. Maybe Trip will have an idea on exactly how." She looked at him menacingly. "You won't be able to climb very well in a couple of months, love."

He was right. "Huh. Well, you're the one who's going to have to feed me. There's no chocolate out here; it might get ugly," she teased.

"Maybe you'll crave rabbit instead. I can get rabbits."

She raised an eyebrow in a manner that would've made T'Pol proud. "You should be so lucky."

* * *

Forrest had never heard such an insane story in his life, and the fact that it was probably true made it all the harder to believe. The evidence made sense, and there wasn't any other explanation that fit the facts. The inhabitants of the planet had human genes mixed with a bit of Vulcan. They spoke a language with its root in English, the only language all six officers shared in common. To top it all off, the planet was called Nerth, which sounded suspiciously like New Earth.

"So they're long dead." Although Phlox confirmed that all six had lived to produce children, citing genetic diversity and some other medical jargon that Forrest was at a loss to understand.

As hard as this was—he didn't even want to think about explaining this mess to the Vulcans—it had to be even harder on Archer. He had worked closely with the lost crew, had been close friends with them, and now suddenly they had been dead for some indeterminate period of time and their descendants populated a planet. It had to be a lot for the man to take.

"They're living their lives, Admiral. They're dead now, but sometime in the past they're alive and well." _And happy, I hope_ , he thought. _Please, make yourselves happy_.

"Did you go to the planet? Obviously they're aware that other sentient life exists."

"No sir, we didn't. They don't have anything close to warp technology yet. The Arians are communicating with them, but we're not going to."

"I understand, Archer. Perhaps in a few years..."

"Maybe."

"Archer?"

"Admiral?"

"I'm sure that they're happy."

"I hope so, sir." _You'd better be happy_.

"I expect your report tomorrow morning. Do you want to contact the families?"

"I have to. For them."

"I'll delay the death-in-the-line-of-duty payments then. And Archer? I'm sorry. They were good officers, good people. Forrest out."

*Make yourselves happy. Trip, I guess we'll never get to watch the latest Stanford-Harvard match. Dr. Phlox says there's no way he can tell who ended up together, but I've seen you and T'Pol. You are-you did—ah, hell, you two will be a good couple, even if it takes you a long time to realize it. You're both stubborn as mules, though.

T'Pol, I know this won't be easy for you, but there's more logic in humans than you've yet to see, and there's more emotion in you than you realize. Look after Trip for me; he's the best buddy a guy could want.

Malcolm, I'm sure that you've already come up with weapons, whenever you are in your time. I know that you'll keep protecting them, and I'm glad. But Malcolm, don't forget to make the most of your life. You and Hoshi have something special, and since I dragged her out here I'm glad that you're with her now. Because the two of you belong together. Even T'Pol saw it.

Oh, Hoshi, I'm sorry that I ever brought you out here, but I just know that you're finding joy in your new home. You're so good at that, finding joy and beauty when nobody else sees it. Bring out the joy, and make sure Malcolm sees it too.

Travis, you're so young and energetic. That's why I picked you. Did I ever tell you that? I was impressed by your energy and spirit. I can see you and Silina—Tatiana—together. Keep that spirit.

I wish that I knew you better, Tatiana Silina, but I know that you're a fine officer and a good woman. So the six of you make a happy community. Consider that your last order from your old captain*.

Stepping out of his ready room, he gave the surprisingly painful command to take the ship away from the planet that he couldn't bear to visit.

"Turn us around, Ensign. We're headed to Earth. Warp 3.5."

* * *

Malcolm reflected as he watched the rise and fall of Hoshi's chest while she slept. It had been a bloody good week on New Earth, as she called the planet.

Lizzie had said her first word, which was "Dada," much to his pleasure. They'd decided to name their daughter in memory of Elizabeth Cutler, whose death had haunted the Enterprise crew before the anomaly, a lifetime ago.

Much to Malcolm's relief, he turned out to be nothing like his own father, as Hoshi had known all along. Just two days before that special word, Tatiana gave birth to a healthy boy who she and Travis named Alexander. Trip and T'Pol were mysterious and evasive about their chances of having a child, although for some inexplicable reason Trip had muttered something about two years. He refused to elaborate, so Malcolm decided not to press the issue.

However, Trip went on to excitedly mention a private Vulcan bonding ritual that apparently didn't require anyone to officiate, so things were going well in the farthest tree to the right. Just when things couldn't get any better, he perfected the arrowhead he'd crafted out of shells from Hoshi's latest discovery, freshwater oysters. Now he had a weapon with a better range to protect his family.

Hoshi was sleeping peacefully, murmuring "Malcolm est ma cherie!"

Hmm, a snippet of language he could understand, for once. Lizzie was contentedly sucking her thumb as she slept. A cool night breeze rustled the roof-leaves. He'd never imagined a life like this, but found that he was very happy. Putting an arm protectively around Hoshi's shoulder, he drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Travis had been very nervous when Alexander was born three years ago last week, and got butterflies remembering that last night Tatiana said that she thought that she was a month pregnant, but Trip had easily beaten both he and Malcolm in the nervous new father department, and T'Pol hadn't even given birth yet.

Malcolm and Hoshi were the veteran parents, having two daughters, and Travis hadn't feared that Malcolm would go crazy from impatience either time. Trip, on the other hand, had already been coolly banished from his house by T'Pol.

"Charles," she'd said, "I doubt that our child will be born before dark. If you must pace, will you please do it outside?"

So Trip had resorted to wearing a path around the trunk at a dizzying pace. Hoshi was up in the tree with T'Pol, while Tatiana was simultaneously keeping a good supply of water warm and making a turtle stew for dinner. Travis was watching Alexander, who was at the moment happily playing with the stuffed rabbit that had been his birthday present from Hoshi and Malcolm, and trying to calm Trip down. Malcolm was showing Lizzie how to carve, or rather compress, soft wood with a very dull rock while her ten-month-old sister Madeline napped in a cradle at his side. T'Pol's reserve had so far kept the day uneventful, which Travis privately thought was a very good thing; if Trip had to hear her scream, or any other indication that she was in pain, he might insist on staying in the tree with her.

"Lizzie, do you want to play with Alexander for a little while?"

"Is it okay, Daddy?"

"That's fine, sweetie." Inwardly Travis smiled. When he first joined Enterprise he had never expected to hear Malcolm Reed say the word "sweetie." Things had gone much differently than he ever expected, but Travis was a happy man. They were all happy.

"I'll watch Lizzie and Madeline. Why don't you take him hunting, or fishing, or anywhere else?"

"Are you sure you can watch the three of them?"

Tatiana spoke up. "I can help him. Take Trip out of here!"

They had to have been gone an hour, but it didn't seem like nearly long enough. Trip had a pair of rabbits in his hand, while Malcolm had found one of the tasty fox-like creatures with black spotted green fur and a large squirrel. The expedition seemed to calm Trip a little, and he talked to Malcolm while they skinned their catches and started up the tiny smokehouse.

"Trip."

Instantaneously he was climbing up his tree. "We're not ready for you yet, but T'Pol thought that you'd want to know. We think she's having twins." Then Hoshi's face was gone and Trip, looking very dazed, sat down next to Travis.

"Twins?"

"That's what she said. Congratulations!"

Meanwhile, up in the tree, T'Pol and Hoshi were discussing the ramifications of this. "It explains the chaos of emotions that I sensed. The level of chaos was greater than I believed to be normal, but I attributed it to the child being half human."

"I suspected before, but didn't want to get your hopes up." T'Pol did not bother to argue that Vulcans do not get their hopes up. Where her child, now children, were concerned, she would have. "But now I'm almost certain."

"I presume that Charles is unable to form a coherent sentence at this time." She would have liked to see that, but her mate's frantic pacing strained her already challenged control.

"I bet, but Malcolm and Travis will help him get over that."

"Then they will not be able to prevent him from talking ceaselessly."

"He's probably already started on the second cradle." After a moment, her curiosity got the better of her. "Do Vulcans have twins? I haven't ever heard of it."

"It is a rare occurrence, but not unheard of. I am gratified; the odds against human-Vulcan conception are great. I doubt that Charles and I will have any more children."

"You never know, T'Pol. You've already beaten the odds twice."

"Perhaps." She flinched. "I believe that my offspring have decided to 'enter the world' earlier than I estimated."

"Do you want me to get Trip?"

"I believe the saying is, "'wild horses couldn't keep him away.'"

Tatiana couldn't believe it when she heard a newborn's cry. T'Pol hadn't screamed once!

"A boy!" That was Trip. "Right, water." He appeared in the doorway. "We're ready for the water!" Tatiana loaded it in the basket and Trip pulled it up to the tree, then disappeared.

Baby Jonathan was washed and had been dozing in his father's arms for an hour before his sister was born. When both children had been fed and were in their cradle (which was a tight fit, and Trip vowed to finish the second one tomorrow if it took from dawn to dusk), Hoshi shooed Malcolm, Travis, Tatiana away, saying that T'Pol needed her rest and so did Trip, even if he didn't know it yet. Malcolm and Travis shared a smile at that.

"We don't even get to know their names?" said Travis disappointedly. "They wouldn't tell."

"Well, it's not my place to tell."

"You know?!" Malcolm looked at Travis, trying to warn him that Hoshi wouldn't tell. He knew better than to attempt, but Travis didn't. She told him that Trip and T'Pol would tell them, and set her daughters in the basket to raise them up to bed. Malcolm grabbed a bowl of stew for Hoshi before following her up.

Trip poked his head out and gleefully called out "Make sure ya'll come see little Jonathan and T'Mir tomorrow!" Hoshi's sensitive ears picked up T'Pol admonishing him that he might wake the children. Trip had practically glowed as he watched his children be put to bed for the first time. The amazing thing about that look, she mused as Malcolm tucked Lizzie and Maddie in, was that it never faded.

She ate the stew gratefully, then, seeing her daughters sleeping comfortably, pulled the bearskin blanket over herself and Malcolm. It had been a long and tiring day, but an amazing one.

"Malcolm."

"Yes, love?"

"I'm glad we're stranded here."

"I wouldn't trade this for anything."

"Gorws bexso falpv." Every night, she told him that she loved him in a different language. Over the years she'd started to repeat them, but it didn't matter to Malcolm. He found it to be a most endearing ritual, the foreign nature of the words not able to hide the depth of meaning she put into them.

"Forever, Hoshi." His last thought before going to sleep, arms around her waist, was that he was glad Trip and T'Pol finally had a family so they, like Malcolm, Hoshi, Tatiana, and Travis, could know the joys of parenthood. This life, one he'd never dreamed of, was more rewarding than he'd ever dare hope his life could be.


	2. The Life We Left Behind

T'Pol stood in front of the grave, looking at the name carved into the simple rock that marked the site. _Sorek Tucker_ was written neatly in capital English letters, and underneath in, in Vulcan, it read _Sorek, son of T'Pol_. Malcolm and Hoshi had carved the inscription on the stone, and then Travis Mayweather conducted the short, solemn funeral. Four and a half years had passed since that day, and Charles had been right. The pain that had threatened to engulf her had subsided, but never truly left. She had not known how to deal with grief of such magnitude, and in a reversal of roles, it was Charles who was her emotional anchor. For despite the pain he was in, the pain that reflected her own, he knew grief, and knew that it would not overwhelm him.

Sorek had been a weak child, a fact that she knew as soon as she could sense his presence in her womb. She suspected that his human and Vulcan genes did not join as well as those of his siblings, and he died three days after he turned two months old. She and Charles did not visit his grave as often as they used to, but their son, as her mate had promised he would be, was always in her memory.

She brought two fingers to his, desiring to communicate through the bond she shared with Charles. It was a weak bond by her people's standards, requiring more effort than was traditionally expected to communicate, but it was a bond that she cherished. It also had to be considered that there was no matriarch to officiate their bonding and yet the bond was maintained by their deep affection. They had become, as the ancient words said, "two who, as one, are complete."

//If Sorek had lived, our home would not seem so empty.// It was an admission of emotion that she did not display publicly. They years spent on New Earth had changed her and brought more emotions to the surface, but she still preferred to avoid revealing them, except to Charles.

//Yeah. I bet he'd be adorable.// For a moment there was a mental silence, and then he added, //It does get lonely without the kids, but we've got each other.//

Jonathan had married Liz Reed five months ago, and T'Mir had married Sergei Mayweather six days ago. T'Pol had harbored misgivings about her children marrying so young, but Charles convinced her that they were old enough, and in their shoes he would do the same thing. She had reminded him that Vulcans live longer than humans, and thus marry later; as half-Vulcan she expected her children to do the same, if to a lesser extent. Of her two children, Jonathan had always been more appreciative of his Vulcan heritage, and she was quite surprised when his courtship lasted only a year. Tatiana had performed the ceremony for Jonathan and Liz, while Hoshi had for the wedding of T'Mir and Sergei. Tatiana had advocated for the marriage of T'Mir and Sergei; T'Pol was aware that Travis thought Sergei should wait until he was at least 18, and Tatiana said that she doubted one month would make much difference.

On their way back to the tree they called home, T'Pol and Trip passed what Travis called "the neighborhood of the next generation," located right across the stream from the group of trees that had originally been their shelter when they first arrived on New Earth. Maddie and Alex Mayweather had been married the longest in this group, and Maddie was six months pregnant with their first child. It was surprisingly difficult to resist the temptation to visit her children, but the sun was setting and it was not wise to walk about after sunset, not even in the camp.

"Really, Mom, I'm not tired!" The protest of fifteen-year-old Allison Mayweather was heard well beyond her home. Allison did not like to admit that she got tired before adults, a trait that had been developing for several months but came out full-forced after both her brothers left home, leaving her the only child in the Mayweather tree.

"You and Tim spent the entire afternoon racing. I'm surprised you haven't fallen asleep already." Tatiana's reply wasn't as loud as her daughter's outburst, but T'Pol could hear it. Tim, at sixteen the youngest of the Reed children and the only one still living with Hoshi and Malcolm, was probably already asleep. He was, Hoshi said, "a morning person, just like his father."

"Morning will come faster if you go to bed now," suggested Travis. He said something after that, but after T'Pol entered her home she couldn't hear the discussion anymore, which pleased her. Trip climbed up after her.

Once they entered their own home, Trip and T'Pol were confronted with a face they had never expected to see again: Crewman Daniels. "Please excuse my trespassing. I didn't want to let myself into your home, but I don't want any of the children to see me."

"Daniels?" Trip said, sounding as though he doubted very much that the man in front of him was real. That wasn't entirely true, since he knew, in a general sort of way, that Daniels could travel in time, but Trip was shocked out of words.

"That's my name, at least for this mission."

"I assume that your visit concerns the Temporal Cold War." T'Pol hadn't lost her words, although she was as surprised as Trip.

He nodded. "The specifics are classified, of course."

"I expected no less."

"Do you remember the Suliban?"

T'Pol nodded. Trip, finding words again, half-attempted a joke. "It's hard ta forget guys that ugly."

"I'm here to stop them from changing the future drastically. We caught wind of a plotâ€”the Suliban should be showing up tomorrow morning."

"I thought ya died, though."

"I'm going to."

"What?"

"I haven't gone on board the Enterprise yet."

"Ooops. Maybe I shouldn'ta mentioned that."

"I already knew, Commander."

"Wow. It's been a long time since anyone called me that." He paused for a moment. "You're not gonna take us back? You can't! We've been here for more'n twenty years, an' it's our home."

"Don't worry, Commander. You're not going anywhere."

"I don't s'pose you could just tell Jon that we're alive though, could ya?" Daniels couldn't tell them that Archer knew, of course. "I'm not in the courier business."

"I didn't think so. Could ya tell me why ya were a crewman, though? I mean, obviously ya know enough ta be an officer. Why not at least be an ensign?"

"It's easier to be covert as a crewman," he shrugged.

"Charles, we should allow Crewman Daniels to explain himself." Somehow it didn't seem right to call him "Crewman Daniels," but T'Pol couldn't think of anything more appropriate to say.

"It would be best if Lieutenant Reed and Ensign Sato could come. The Suliban are targeting their son."

"We can't leave the trees after dark. The bears're nocturnal, an' the last time we were down in the dark Malcolm ended up with a nasty concussion an' a bearskin blanket."

"I'll guard you." Trip was reassured by the tiny weapon that Daniels held out, and went off to get Hoshi and Malcolm.

"Maybe I won't try ta explain this. I think I'll just tell 'em to come over," muttered Trip on his way down.

Hoshi's first response to Daniels was, "If the Suliban want to kill him we certainly can't leave him alone!"

"He is not alone, Ensign. A guard transported to your tree as soon as you left. She is invisible. If Timothy wakes he will not notice her." This didn't really calm Hoshi down, but Malcolm managed to get her to sit back down, telling her that listening to Daniels was the best way to defend Tim. She listened to him because she hadn't seen Malcolm look so scared in years.

"I assume that you have a plan to keep Tim alive," said Malcolm after Daniels told them his reason for coming.

"Yes, but he must not know of our existence. None of the children can."

"What? We can't tell him that there are dangerous soldiers who want him dead? It seems to me he has a right to know!" Hoshi had been trying to keep back tears during the entire exchange, comforted by Malcolm's firm grip on her hand and comforting him in turn with hers. Now several of the tears won over her resolve and spilled onto her cheeks.

"You could tell him, but the effect would be as disastrous to the timeline as if he were killed."

Silently the entire army of tears started flowing, and then a choked sob or two escaped. Hoshi took several seconds to reestablish a semblance of control.

"You're not making any sense," scowled Malcolm, who was compelled to believe Daniels but wanted straighter answers. He had put his tough-guy mask, as Hoshi had called it forever ago, back on as though he hadn't neglected it in years, "I can't tell..."

"Look, we're already takin' the secret about you an' this whole damn Temporal Cold War ta our graves. Everything that matters ta us is in danger, an' I'd like ta get a couple a' straight answers outta ya!" Trip had been uncharacteristically silent, but made up for it in a spectacular fashion.

Daniels sighed. "If Timothy finds out about the attempt on his life, he'll be too afraid of the Suliban to have children. That cannot be allowed to happen."

"Now we're gettin' somewhere."

"How do you know that the Suliban won't try to kill him again?" Hoshi's voice was shaky, and she leaned heavily on Malcolm, who was still scowling and afraid for his son.

"This is the only time in his life that failure to kill him would result in success of the mission, as long as the attempt was discovered. They will come back to this time, and I will come back, but for you, it will only happen once."

This was somewhat comforting, but Hoshi was still desperately hoping that this would turn out to be a nightmare. Malcolm felt rather useless and wished he had a phase pistol. Somehow, he doubted that even his sharpest arrows would do much against the Suliban. Maybe he'd get one good shot before he was killed.

Daniels passed out a tiny weapon to each of them. "They're configured to blast through Suliban body armor." So much for the arrows being effective, Malcolm thought, but that didn't disappoint him much because this weapon was obviously superior. "I will need you to come with me while I explain my presence to Ensigns Silina and Mayweather, Sub-Commander."

"Their daughter is in there."

"Allison Mayweather sleeps like a log. We won't disturb her."

"Can I please hear your plan to protect my son before you leave?" Feeling slightly better now that he had a weapon, Malcolm hefted it in his hands. "This doesn't have a stun setting," he added.

"No, it doesn't. A stun setting would only knock a Suliban out for about five minutes. This only has vaporize, so aim carefully." Hoshi shuddered and gave her weapon to Malcolm.

"Tim will join the Mayweathers for breakfast. Commander, you're going to make sure that the six oldest children don't see anything. I don't care how you do it, but don't tell them! Lieutenant, Ensign, you'll be in your tree with Sal. Sub-Commander, you're here with me. When the Suliban turn up in camp, sometime shortly after breakfast I suspect, we'll shoot them."

"That's it?"

"Simple but effective, Lieutenant."

"Do you have a backup plan?"

"Why do you think we're splitting into two teams? Now let me give the three of you a short-acting sedative so you're well-rested tomorrow, and then you two go back to your own tree." Hoshi accepted gratefully, but Malcolm held up his hand to block the small hypospray. "I assure you, I know what I'm doing, Lieutenant."

"You'd better, Daniels. I'm trusting you with my son's life."

Following T'Pol down the tree, he added to Malcolm, who was leading Hoshi back to their tree, "I will need the weapons back after."

Disappointed but not surprised, Malcolm replied, "I figured you'd say that."

Hoshi was inside the house, and T'Pol had already gone in to Travis and Tatiana's tree, when Malcolm heard a roar. He turned around in time to see Daniels shoot at a bear. For an instant the white beam shot silently at the animal, and then the bear disappeared.

"I would've smoked him, you know."

"And how would you have explained moving enough in the middle of the night to get the attention of a bear to your children?"

Malcolm looked down and shrugged, "We try not to waste."

"Now you won't have to waste your breath lying." He muttered to himself that Daniels hadn't been this impudent on Enterprise. At least he didn't think so.

"I really think I heard a bear," came Liz's voice. Daniels ducked behind a bush, and Malcolm scurried up to the top of his tree.

"The bears have no cause to be near camp. Everyone is asleep. As you should be."

"But then I heard a voice, too."

"T'hy'la, you were most likely dreaming." Despite this, Jonathan looked out the door. "I do not see a bear, or anyone who might have supplied this voice you talk of."

"Alright, you win."

After several minutes, Daniels climbed up the way T'Pol had gone, and Malcolm went to bed. "That sedative better wear off by morning," he groused, but Hoshi was already asleep. He had to roll her over to put the weapons away where Tim wouldn't find them.

"It will, Lieutenant."

He looked up where the voice was. "I have relocated to the top of your tree, but I am still invisible to you." "You must be Sal."

"Yes. Get some rest, Lieutenant."

Despite his fear, Malcolm fell asleep as soon as he pulled the blanket over himself and Hoshi.

* * *

When Malcolm woke up, Tim was still asleep, but Hoshi, who usually slept far later than either of them, was wide awake. "Malcolm, I'm scared."

"I know, love. I haven't been this scared in a long time."

"Since we thought that Maddie was never going to regain consciousness?" The memory of that, several years ago though it was, still made Hoshi shudder.

Maddie had been hit on the head with a rock that Tim was trying to throw as far as he could, and she'd been unconscious for three and a half days. It had been horrible, and that same fear threatened to take over again.

He nodded. Before he met Hoshi, he would have seen admitting his fear as a weakness. She'd taught him that there were many situations where it was fine to feel weak. This was one of those times. "We'll get through this, Hosh. All of us."

"Daniels seems very confident." He ran his fingers through her hair, now streaked with silver but as smooth and enchanting as ever.

"He's waking up."

"All of us, Hoshi." Then he turned to look at his son. "Good morning."

"Mom? You're up before I am! Did I oversleep?"

"No, silly. I just had a lot on my mind." That was an understatement.

"What's going on?"

"Oh, I was just thinking how wonderful my life is." _And that I'll do anything to keep it that way, even use those vaporizing weapons_.

"We do have it good, don't we?" He looked around the tree. "Especially since there's a lot more room in here now."

"Oh, Tim," Malcolm was trying to sound cavalier, and Hoshi didn't shoot him any glares so he must've been doing alright. "Travis asked me to invite you over to breakfast with them. Tatiana was making pancakes."

"You two aren't coming to breakfast?"

"Not right now. Go ahead, don't wait for your old parents," teased Hoshi. "It could take us hours."

"Hey, I'm not that old!" Malcolm protested; although he was certainly past his prime, he had aged well.

"Don't forget we're going hunting today, Dad."

"I haven't. Although it's tempting to stop telling you all my secrets before you're better than I am." The elusive spotted fox was Malcolm's specialty.

Nobody else was able to find them, except for Tim after a year of expeditions. Tim wanted very much to hone his hunting skills, which was probably influenced by the fact that Liz was a master fisherwoman and Maddie had a knack for gardening and nursing, but the hunting championship among his siblings was still his for the taking.

"See you later."

"Have fun!" Hoshi called out lightheartedly.

"Suliban hunting and fox hunting, all in one day," he whispered once Tim had left.

"Good morning, Lieutenant, Ensign." Hoshi looked up and around before Sal shimmered into view. "I'm Sal, here to help save your son."

"Thank you."

"No thanks are needed, but you're welcome." Sal appeared to be a member of a race they'd never seen before. Hoshi thought to herself that it had been a very long time since she'd seen a new species. When Daniels mentioned Sal, she assumed it was short for Sally. She'd forgotten that you never assume when it comes to new people. Sal was only a centimeter taller than Hoshi, with light skin, green eyes, and dark hair. She looked human except for the multi-toned brown spotted pattern that cascaded down her face from her forehead and disappeared under her black uniform. Hoshi would've loved to have learned her language.

Malcolm retrieved the weapons Daniels had given them last night from the compartment under the pile of blankets he and Hoshi slept on. He studied the weapon for a moment before taking up position in the doorway and turning it on. It was a sleek, efficient-looking design. His bow and arrows, never mind the slingshot and spear, seemed rather pathetic next to it.

"That wouldn't do us much good even if you could keep it. You can't eat the meat or use the fur if you vaporize predators." Hoshi was probably trying to cheer him up, knowing him so well that she could practically read his thoughts.

"Alright, it's just about showtime. Places, everyone." Sal stood in the middle, with Hoshi on one side and Malcolm on the other.

Hoshi had grown accustomed to the need to kill animals, and it didn't bother her anymore to watch as Malcolm killed a fish she caught; sometimes she even had to kill them, and she wasn't plagued by nightmares. Killing sentient beings was a harder task, because they probably had families and friends, were probably following orders, had the potential in them to be goodâ€”but these sentient beings wanted to kill her son, and that brought both her maternal instincts and rage to the surface. Malcolm, too, had always preferred the stun setting on the old phase pistols, but when it came to protecting his family all bets were off. Sal stood calmly, looking as confident as Daniels had. Daniels and T'Pol were in position, although the others could not see them.

Hoshi found her thoughts wandering to Tim, knowing full well the consequences of failure. She wouldn't let them kill him, or make him afraid. The night he was born was an exhausting ordeal, because her labor was long. Lizzie was with Travis and Tatiana, and Maddie was staying with Trip. T'Pol and Malcolm were both with her, T'Pol to assist with delivery. Malcolm was a good sport about how hard she squeezed his hand, which was especially meaningful because he wasn't a night person. T'Pol bathed their new son while Malcolm looked after Hoshi, and then handed him over.

"His lungs appear to have an exceptional capacity," she remarked. It was true; of all their children Tim cried the loudest. "Congratulations Hoshi, Malcolm. If there is nothing else you require, I will retire now."

"Thank you," said Malcolm distractedly, without ever taking his eyes off his new son.

"We're all set, T'Pol. Thanks for all your help."

Hoshi then set about feeding her son. She and Malcolm had decided to call the baby Hiroki if it was a boy, but for some reason she didn't think he looked like a Hiroki. Malcolm asked what she thought he looked like.

"Timothy," she decided after a moment's thought. "He looks like a Timothy."

"I thought you wanted a Japanese name."

"I did, but he looks like a Timothy."

"Well, Timothy it is then."

Timothy apparently had a stomach capacity to match his lung capacity, but eventually he finished feeding and, after being coaxed to spit up, settled happily into his blanket and promptly fell asleep.

"You have a perfectly healthy son, Malcolm. Why do you look so worried? Haven't we already established that you're a wonderful parent, that you're nothing like your father?"

"He expected more of me because I was his only son. Maddie never had half the problems I did with him."

Hoshi held out Timothy, and Malcolm took him expertly and cradled him. "Malcolm, you're a loving, caring, sensitive father to the girls. I know that you'll be the same wonderful dad for Timothy."

He smiled. "I never used to think that those words would be used to describe me." Looking down at his tiny son, sleeping with a hint of a smile playing at his lips, and knowing his two daughters were asleep in the trees mere meters away, seeing Hoshi and knowing how much she loved him, Malcolm thought that his life was just perfect.

"Let's put him to bed." He passed Timothy back to Hoshi, because the cradle was nearer to her. She held him for a moment, reluctant to give him up to the cradle. When she looked up, she saw a wide smile.

"What?"

"I was just thinking how beautiful you look right now."

"I'm a mess! My hair is plastered on my face, I've got..." he silenced her with a kiss.

"You're gorgeous, love."

Hoshi then remembered the day Tim learned to walk. It was a cloudy day in the middle of the afternoon. Malcolm and Trip had gone off hunting. Travis and Tatiana had gone to gather some berries, so she and T'Pol were watching all eight kids. T'Pol was instructing Maddie, Jonathan, and T'Mir in the basics of weaving. Allison was asleep in her cradle, which Alexander felt compelled to sit next to even though Hoshi and T'Pol were right there. He was trying to sew a pouch out of squirrel hide for Tatiana's upcoming birthday (though birthdays were necessarily approximated because they guessed at the calendar), and though it wasn't the neat oval he'd envisioned, it was coming along nicely.

Sergei was diligently working on his own gift, a necklace made out of many knots. Lizzie peppered her with questions about food and cooking, and Timmy was crawling around in circles. He stood up occasionally, balancing against the trunk of Trip and T'Pol's tree. Suddenly he took a few steps before falling down and crying out. Lizzie, who took her big sister responsibilities seriously, recounted the event at dinner twice.

Next Hoshi thought of the day he'd decided that Timmy was for little boys, and, at seven years old, he was a big boy and should be called Tim. Malcolm, who had finally come up with a device to shave daily, much to his delight and pride, had taken Timmy out fishing and brought back Tim. Liz had progressed through that transition two years earlier, but Maddie never did.

She thought of his rapt attention as she and Malcolm told them of adventures on Enterprise, how Allison always beat him in their sprinting races but he won all the distance races, the delight he expressed when told that he would be an uncle in several months, the way he practically idolized Malcolm.

When the Suliban transported in, they never had a chance. They faced towards the stream, so Malcolm and Sal each vaporized one before they had any idea that they were facing resistance. Hoshi's beam found a target mid-turn. Someone in the other tree, probably Daniels, was struggling to get a shot at the leader, while T'Pol had hit one Suliban in the ankles, where he certainly didn't expect to be shot. He ended up just as vaporized as the others, though. Malcolm hit another one. Sal muttered something in a language Hoshi had never heard, aimed, and the shortest of the warriors disappeared.

By the time the Suliban turned around, there were only two left. Daniels had taken out one of the rank-and-file Suliban and was back to targeting the wily commander. Hoshi saw the other one target T'Pol, and just in time she shot him. Sal and Daniels managed to hit the commander at the same time from opposite sides, and it was over.

"Mission accomplished," declared Sal. "Now's the time for our exit."

"Thank you," chorused Malcolm and Hoshi, handing over their weapons.

"All in a day's work. But you're welcome." Then she disappeared, without any of the sparkling fanfare that were, in their own time, associated with transporting.

Malcolm hugged Hoshi tightly. "It's over, Hosh. We won." She couldn't speak, just buried herself in his strong shoulder.

T'Pol, in accordance with the agreed-upon signal, called out "Charles, I require your assistance."

Later Jonathan and Liz stopped by to invite Hoshi, Malcolm, and Tim on a grain gathering expedition. Tim and Malcolm had just returned from their fox hunt without any foxes, but with three squirrels and a rabbit between them. Malcolm and Hoshi declined, but Tim went along. This left his parents a few hours of time alone.

"Tatiana wanted to take a more active role in this morning," Hoshi reported. "She said it was her duty, but that Daniels and T'Pol insisted that would be too suspicious."

"She and Travis kept Tim, Allison, Sergei, and T'Mir from noticing the Suliban. Trip kept Jonathan, Liz, Maddie, and Alex from discovering them. We all did what had to be done."

"I thought it would be hard, Malcolm." He noticed the concern in her voice, and took her hand. "I thought that killing a sentient being would be hard, but it wasn't. They wanted to kill Tim, and that made me so angry that it wasn't hard to kill them at all. That scared me."

"I know that feeling, love. It was your friendship that first made me realize it didn't make me less than human. It was my job, and I was protecting my friends."

"You felt this way?"

"More times than I can count, before we came here."

"How did you deal with it, knowing that there was something inside of you that could be so brutal?"

He pulled Hoshi onto his lap and started tracing random patterns on her back. "Until I met you, I didn't. I thought that it was part of the job, but that I was a lesser man because of it. Then you came along, and you didn't care.

"I think we all have that something inside of us, Hosh. If there's enough at stake, it'll come out."

"We did what we had to do." Repeating his earlier words, she found that they sounded more reassuring now. She looked into his eyes and saw so much more in them than words could ever say.

"I love you, Malcolm."

"Forever, Hoshi."

* * *

Trip, who was attempting to finish building the system by which new logs could be added to the kiln, looked over with satisfaction to see T'Pol making another jug to add to the first she'd crafted. When the pair was dry they planned to test the kiln. It was small because that was the only way he could figure out to heat the pottery inside to high enough temperatures. Actually, it was all theoretical anyway, because there was a large chance that it could all crumble.

Travis in particular was highly skeptical, but had hauled clay anyway. A small blob of clay flew up to her chin, and T'Pol's attempt to get rid of it only smudged it. She went back to work for a moment before raising her eyes to meet his.

"What is the matter, Charles?"

"I was just thinkin.'"

"An affliction you are prone to."

He smiled for a moment before a frown creased his face. "T'Pol, I meant what I said when Daniels came. I don't want ta go back now; but I was a Starfleet officer. Should I have asked ta go back out of duty? Shouldn't I have at least wanted ta go back?"

She paused to give his questions thought. "The fact that Daniels and Sal came to New Earth indicates that, in the future, our descendants will be of importance to the interplanetary community. Therefore they could not return us to Enterprise, so it would have been useless to ask."

Of course she knew that the latter question was more important, so she stood up and relocated herself next to where Charles was sitting. "We have, as you pointed out, been here for nearly two and a half decades. I do not believe that anyone would expect us to desire a reversal of the accident after this length of time. Our lives are here now, Charles, and nobody on Enterprise would expect less. Nobody would begrudge us the happiness we have found here, especially Captain Archer." He hadn't said it, but she knew that it was the captain he was most worried about letting down.

"Ya really think so?"

"I would not have told you so if I believed otherwise."

Despite the mud that covered her hands, he took them in his own and brushed her mind. //You're an amazin' woman, T'Pol. I'm not sure I tell ya that enough.//

//I have never found cause to doubt your proclamations. You are also extraordinary.//

//I've been thinkin' about Enterprise a lot lately, and you're in most of the memories.//

//As you are in mine.// "Trip? T'Pol? Are you hungry?" Allison's voice broke into their mental reverie.

"Comin.'" He gallantly took her hand to help her up. She did not require his assistance but found this chivalry touching. She looked at their hands, covered in mud. //Perhaps we should wash our hands before eating.//

//Yeah, probly. Let's go. Our life here's waitin' for us.//


End file.
